A Brave Front
by SnowyBones
Summary: She lost her chance. Booth had moved on. Now she has to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and put on a brave front while inside she is crumbling. Set during the S6 premiere, 'The Mastodon in the Room'.


AN: So this has been kicking around in my head for about 3 weeks. Worked on it slowly and finally finished it last night. So I hope you enjoy it. Thank you especially to dgschneider, craftyjhawk, dharmamonkey, and all my friends on Twitter for encouraging me to keep writing despite a really nasty review yesterday. Also credit to dharmamonkey for the 'chipped and broken pieces' line in this story. :)

* * *

Temperance Brennan was dead tired. She had lost track of how long she'd been awake some time ago, only knowing that the last time she'd slept was for about an hour on the flight from Maluku back to DC.

Since then, she'd been running on pure nerves and adrenaline. Now, coming back to her apartment after nearly seven months away, she felt more than just physically tired.

It began when she'd gone to the coffee cart, the one that she and Booth had promised each other to meet by when they returned to DC. At first, no one had been there and she'd been afraid that he wasn't coming after all.

Yet she'd stayed, knowing that he'd be there. She had been so excited to see him again, to see for herself that he was in one piece after his time in Afghanistan. And to tell him that she had been wrong that night on the steps of the Hoover.

She was ready to try being with him, if he still wanted to 'give this a shot'.

Over the course of her stay in Maluku, Brennan had found to her irritation that thoughts of Booth hadn't been far from her mind. After 2 weeks, she'd come to the realization that she missed him terribly and that perhaps she'd made a mistake in coming to Maluku.

Finally, Brennan had acknowledged what she had known for some time but hadn't allowed herself to really admit. She was in love with Booth and she did want to be with him, that she did have his kind of open heart. Her sorrow over her actions on the steps of the Hoover that night haunted her for weeks once she had let herself finally admit to loving Booth.

She began to wonder of course, if he would still feel for her what he claimed to have felt before she had crushed his heart. If he had moved on as he said he would. Fear clutched at her heart remembering how the usual spark had left his eyes that night, leaving them dull and sad.

Now, seven months later, she had hoped to make things right; to finally tell Booth how she felt and hope that he still felt as he did seven months ago and if he was still willing to try to be with her.

It didn't go that way of course.

She'd spotted him as he came across the wide area in front of the Reflecting Pool, carrying his large, dusty duffle bag over his shoulder; still dressed in his military uniform like he'd come right off his own flight and come right to the coffee cart to meet her.

The thought caused a smile to turn up the corners of her mouth and blossom into a full blown grin the minute he set his eyes on her, an answering wide toothed smile on his face.

In an action very unlike her, Brennan found herself running at speed to meet him. They met halfway, embracing fiercely. She had missed him so much. She'd examined him from head to toe as she pulled back; cataloging everything, noting that he'd lost some weight but was overall healthy and whole.

"Booth," she'd whispered, her joy at seeing him again making her vision swim.

His replying "Bones" had made her smile wider, a quiet laugh escaping her. She never thought she'd ever enjoy or look forward to hearing the quirky nickname he had given her when they had first met all those years ago. But now, hearing him say it, it meant she was home, back where she was supposed to be.

Her bubble though had burst when he had explained that he had met someone, a journalist he'd arrested while in Afghanistan.

Brennan felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach. She'd lost her chance. He had moved on, just as he said he would.

In that moment she wanted to run, run as far as she could, possibly back to Maluku. Just so she wouldn't have to endure this pain. But she held on. Putting on a bright smile, even though all she wanted to do was run away. She'd congratulated him, told him she was happy for him, all the while she was falling apart inside.

She had lost her chance.

Now more than 12 hours later, she was home; alone. Before now she had never minded being alone. After all being alone did not mean that one was lonely. She was used to being alone. Liked being alone; it was better that way, right? Otherwise you opened yourself up to being hurt.

Except it was too late, she'd already done that. She had opened herself to him, like she had never done with anyone before, not even Angela, and now he had essentially left her. Just like everyone always did eventually. After he'd promised he never would, he had. She'd believed him too; believed that he would never leave her the way everyone else did; except now he had.

And she was alone; alone with her broken heart and all the memories of things that had made her relationship with Booth so special. Everywhere she looked he was there.

So many memories of Booth lived here in her own home. Late night Thai food deliveries disguising his true intentions of making sure she was okay after they had discovered the remains from Limbo she had been working on were actually her mother's.

Other nights, loaded down with piles of paperwork from their various cases, they would settle on her couch, containers of Chinese take-out spread out among the various piles of papers. They would laugh and joke and banter and argue their way through it, all the while growing closer as friends and partners.

Then there was the night she cooked for him, her own variation on mac and cheese, which Booth had declared he wanted to be alone with because it was so good. Though she hadn't meant for it to be, that dinner had be the most intimate meal they'd shared in all the time they had worked together.

Now all those things were gone. Dashed aside and scattered by her fear of opening herself up to someone in a way that would make her vulnerable. In a way that she hadn't allowed herself to since before her parents had abandoned her.

She collapsed on her couch, bags slipping from her shoulders onto the floor, their contents spilling across her polished wooden floors without her notice. She sank down onto the cushions and without so much as a blink, Brennan buried her face in her hands and began to cry; heavy sobs shaking her whole body. Tears dripped from between her fingers, slashing on her lap as she cried, her breath hitching with each sob.

She cried for her lost chance and for all the things that she had allowed to stand in her way on a path that could have led to the one thing she had always secretly wanted: To be loved and accepted as she was, not for being a genius or for how much money she made or even for how she looked. But just for her, all of her, in all the broken and chipped pieces that made up who she was.

To find someone who would see her wounded, battered heart and treasure and protect it. These things that she never spoke out loud about but always dreamed, always secretly hoped. Especially once Booth had come into her life.

He'd peeled back her layers, burrowed under her best defenses, in some cases sneaking around them entirely and found his way in, all the while giving little pieces of himself in the process. She treasured those pieces, knowing that they were things that he did not share lightly or often. And in at least one case, only shared with her.

Now it didn't matter about those pieces or those layers and any of her defenses. They were all gone now. Crumbled to dust and blown away, leaving her with the shattered remains of her heart in her hands, hoping that she could mend it back together again.

Her tears spilled until she had none left to spill, and when they had subsided to quiet sniffs and drips, she raised her head, wiping the last few trickles away.

As she calmed from her cry, Brennan vowed to herself that she would not wallow in self-pity and grief. She was a professional and she had a job that was important and invaluable, a duty to get justice for victims whose identities had been nearly erased by their murderers.

She would put on a brave face just as she always had before, masking her pain from the world. And above all she would try to be happy for Booth. After all that's all she really wanted. And if a part of her held onto hope that one day things between she and Booth might turn out the way she now wanted, she would allow it be. It was all she had and she would hold tightly to it until she had a reason to let it go.

Standing, Brennan bent and gathered the papers and other sun dry items that had scattered across her floor upon her collapse on the couch and subsequent crying jag. Neatly slipping them back into her satchel, Brennan made her way to her bedroom, intending to soak in a hot bath.

Tomorrow she would put on her brave front for the world and hide her pain beneath it, all the while clinging to a thin thread of hope that she would get her chance still. She just had to hold on.

* * *

So what did you think? Please leave me your thoughts in that lovely box down there. Reviews feed the Muse. Flames will be used to cook my dinner. ;)


End file.
